Just a Boatman
by Red Sova
Summary: He wasn't always Samuel Beechworth. Once upon a time, he could recall another world, another name, another life that was his own.
1. Chapter 1

_He wasn't always Samuel Beechworth._

Once upon a time, he could recall another world, another name, another life that was his own.

He could recall a dark cupboard, a lonely abused child with hair the color of a starless sky and eyes made of emeralds.

His name had been 'Freak', or at least that's what they called him.

He could recall running from the pig in a wig that was his cousin who's name to this day still manages to allude him.

He fled to the forest.

Its there, desperately lost with only the night sky just visible about the treetops that he first meets the boy, no older then himself, named Erland.

Erland, by all rights looks normal, with pale skin, short brown hair and pitch black eyes. Dressed in a brown old fashioned coat, blue pants and black boots but there's something about him...

Something not quite right, even in Freak's own measures.

Despite that, Freak decides he likes Erland. Strange as he may be the other is the first person to ever so any interest in Freak, to show even a shred of human kindness in the form of rather dull yet warm gray scarf.

He falls asleep that night, leaning against Erland's shoulder as the other talk of another time, another world that couldn't possibly be real.

Freak wakes in his cupboard and if not for the dull scarf still tied securely around his neck, he would believe it all to be but a dream.

For months whenever he's thrown out into the cold in the dark cover of the night, or chased into the forest by his pig of a cousin; Freak returns to the forest and that one spot where Erland is always waiting for him.

Until one day, Erland offers him to take him to his world- a new life, a new chance- in turn all he would have to do is bare his mark.

Freak trusts Erland and doesn't not hesitate to accept.

Hand in Hand, he follows Erland into the strange mass of black and purple energy.

* * *

His name is Samuel Beechworth.

His parents' names was Charles and Vivian Beechworth.

His mother, bless her soul, died in childbirth. They call him a _'miracle'_ as many doctor's claimed he would be stillborn. His Father, a Noble Lord, is too overjoyed to care all that much about the strange birthmark on the inside of his son's wrist.

He grows up well loved and cared for. When he's six his father buys him fingerless gloves to hid his birthmark and sends him with the other children for an Aptitude Test. His father wants him to be an Overseer and though he passes the test they both know it can never happen.

When he's fourteen, he meets Amaranth Knight.

She was beautiful, kind, gentle and everything he could ever want. Her hair reminds him of fire and her as blue as the midday sky. Her's skin is unnaturally pale though, a sign of her growing illness that had haunted her all though-out her life.

Despite knowing the odds and his Father's warning of setting himself up for heartbreak, Samuel proposes to Amaranth on his sixteenth birthday.

The next two years are utter bliss, like a fairytale drawn to life but all dreams must come to an end and Samuel's crashes down only two years later with the death of his beloved wife.

Only days after the funeral, Samuel signs up as a Marine and sets out for sea in hopes of forgetting.

Its there, in the vast ocean, that he meets Erland once more.

Only he's not Erland, He's The Outsider. A Myth that was more of a warning then a Myth. And wither Samuel admits it aloud or not, he owns him. The birthmark on the inside of his wrist is the solid evidence that Erland, The Outsider-who or whatever he was- would always own him.

He almost completely forgets about Amaranth a bit quicker then is natural, almost as if someone has sealed away all his memories of her but a name and a gentle laughter that makes him smile every time it echoes in his mind.

He has no doubt Erland is behind it and the other doesn't even have the decency to deny it.

Bastard.

The years pass all too quickly in his opinion and before he knows it his hair is no longer the color of the night sky but rather the color of freshly fallen snow. His emerald eyes are still bright but now hold a sharp edge of wisdom that only comes with age.

He's surprised he's lived this long to be honest though it was likely thanks to Erland's mark and his own unnatural abilities that he even managed that- if not Erland himself outright intervening.

He's forty-seven when he retires from both the marines and the ocean to return home. He doesn't stay long.

His father is dead. It shouldn't surprise him as much as it does but none the less it gives Samuel one more reason to avoid the Manor as a whole.

He builds a small boat which he names the Amaranth, after the wife he can barely recall, and sets out for the rivers leaving his pacifist of a God Brother in charge- Poor Lad fainted the first time Samuel told him of this.

For thirteen years, Samuel manages to live a peaceful life. Always just getting by with enough spare coin to buy a round or two at a pub every two weeks. All in all, he's a retired marine and simple boatman trying to live a simple life.

Or at least, he was.

Then he met Corvo Attano and nothing was ever _'simple'_ again.

* * *

The first time he Corvo Attano exiting the sewers, he's half tempted to turn around and completely forget this madness but he stays. He's speaks his part and then boats the other back to the Hounds Pit Pub.

The next time he sees Corvo, Samuel can't help but notice the dark mark now resting on the back of his hand. Nor can he help pitying the man supporting Erland's mark. He doubted the Former Royal Protector knew exactly what he had traded for such a mark and its abilities.

Over time, the pity slowly shifts itself into respect.

Despite the Chaos and treachery around them, Corvo stays true to himself- somehow managing to complete every mission without shedding a drop of blood and all the while worming his way closer and closer to the boatman.

Had he been younger, Samuel probably wouldn't have hesitated in showing his interest but as it was the elder was content to just be a good friend.

* * *

Emily is everything he could have expected and everything he could have possibly desired within a child of his own: Curious, open minded, dedicate, patient, and outright friendly. He doesn't mind telling her old stories of youth and wonder, nor does he mind when she and Corvo make theirselves comfortable around him to watch him work on his wood crafting.

He creates a small boat, baptizing it in a drop of whiskey before handing it to the young empress.

He can't help but smile as he watches her rush off to show anyone and everyone with glee visible in her eyes.

He pretends not to notice Corvo watching him.

* * *

The Lord High Regent is screwed.

Laughter bubbles in the back of Samuel's throat as he listens to the incriminating audiograph that is playing over the city's propaganda system as a smile falls into place.

Within an hour, Corvo has returned with a smug smile playing under his mask and the Former Lord High Regent has been arrested and charged with High Treason.

It should have been a night for celebrations. Should being the key word.

He had long since predicted the oncoming betrayal of Havelock, Pendleton, and Martin but he never thought he would be dragged into it.

Still Samuel wasn't born yesterday, despite their careful watch and the muzzle of a gun pressed into his lower back, Samuel manages to only slip half the poison into Corves' glass as the other half further stains the already stained floors. Corvo was strong, he would survive.

And if he didn't...

Emerald eyes flickered towards his gloved hands and the burning sensation coming from his wrist that somehow radiated fury.

Well, something told him one way or another these so called _'Loyalist'_ wouldn't be an issue for too long.

* * *

 _"All I can say is it's been a pleasure serving with you. Maybe after all this is settled, we'll see each other again. Good luck Corvo, if anyone deserves it, you do. Give my best to Emily. After she's on the throne, she wont have time for an old man like me. I knew you were sharp, Corvo, but somehow you managed to get through all this mess without losing sight of what really matters. For that, I respect you. The city is going to pull itself up, I believe. Too many people here to let it all turn to ashes. I'd best be going. The battlefield is no place for an old sailor like me. That time has long passes. Good luck, my friend."_

When he thinks about it, that was probably the most words he had ever spoken at one time to Corvo. So maybe that was why the other was just standing on there, frozen on his boat, as though his mind had run off without him...

 _'Opps'_ , a part of Samuel whispered at the thought of accidently breaking the man he had grown to see as a close friend and ally. But now wasn't the time to break; Emily needed Corvo.

Mentally sighing, the boatman stood about to physically remove the other from his boat when he fount his mind shutting down in surprise by the pair of warm lips crashed on his own.

After a moment, Corvo pulled away, flashing a brief smirk before pulling that mask back into place.

"For luck."

And then he was gone; Blinked no doubt. Leaving a frozen Samuel just standing in his boat staring at the empty space the man had once been.

Great, now he was broken.

* * *

It was a cheap copy of the Sunday paper that told Samuel of Corvo's success; Emily was the Empress and according to the reporter when asked how he did it; Corvo had smirked and responded with 'Just a bit of luck'.

The boatman easily caught the unspoken meaning and so had Erland, who busted into laughter while leaning over the boatman's shoulder.

For once, Samuel couldn't find himself to care about caution and ill omens as he pushed the laughing deity off his back and back into the ocean from whence he came.

'Luck indeed.'

If he didn't know better, he'd swear Corvo was publicly teasing him for the whole world to see.

"I knew he was an interesting one."

Erland spoke as he pulled himself back into the Amaranth.

"Of course you did," Samuel agreed. Erland always fount the interesting ones. Though Samuel still didn't know what it was about him that had interested the deity that fateful day in another life, in another world.

* * *

His name is Samuel Beechworth.

He's sixty-eight years old.

Retired Marine, ex-boatman, and now Royal boatman for the Empress and her Royal Gaurd- he still gives the two dirty looks when he recalls how Corvo had showed up two years ago with a Royal Decree informing him he was either to be the Royal Boatman and live at the Palace or be tried for High Treason in the form of Insubordination.

He owns thirty Amaranths, sixteen Emilys, six Erlands and even three Corvos.

He's lived a long life but he fears his time is near.

One day he convinces Corvo to help him take the original Amaranth out to sea once more. A week later the Amaranth drifts back into the palace docks without either of her passengers.

* * *

In the darkness of the void, The Outsider howls in rage as his two favorites are torn out of his world by an ancient magic.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Samuel is aware of is the lack of sound from the oceans waves beating against the Amaranth, the salty breeze has all but vanished as well and the elderly sailor dares to look up only to meet stone walls and the vast amount of faces- most of which are children- suddenly focused on their direction. The sound of the ocean and his beloved Amaranth is gone despite them having been standing upon it only milliseconds ago.

The second thing he's aware of is Corvo; who is still hunched over him, as the sheathed blade Peiro made him all those years ago to slip into the Royal Protector's free hand. The other hand is supporting him, keeping the elder of the two from falling and introducing his face into the stone floors beneath their feet. His dark eyes are sharp like razors as they dart around the room, taking in everything at once and already plotting the necessary means of escape.

One of the few adults- sitting upon a long table at the front of what Samuel can now tell is a feast hall- attempt to move towards them only for Corvo to yank the boatman closer, forcing the other's back firmly against his chest, as the blade unsheathes. The old man stills as the blade locates itself against his long white beard making the Royal Protector's intentions clear should he dare to take another step.

"Harry Potter."

The man speaks as if the name should mean something to them but all it garters is a swift exchange of confused looks from the two men. Samuel does not know a Harry Potter and its obvious neither does Corvo, but there's something distinctly familiar about the old man's accent.

Dark eyes glance over at him, causing the boatman to shake his head.

"Never heard of."

Corvo speaks for the both of them after a moment, causing a frown to mar onto the stranger's face.

"Surely one of you must be, the goblet would not have brought you here otherwise."

He thought one of them was this 'Harry Potter'?

Goblet? What in heavens name does a cup have to do with anything?

"No, we're not."

The frown deepens slightly before its replaced by what Samuel can only guess is supposed to be a Grandfatherly smile and... Where his eyes actually twinkling?

"Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere else? May I suggest my office?"

"No."

The word slips from both Samuel and Corvo at the same time, neither willing to trust this stranger enough to walk into his own domain. If they did talk it would have to be somewhere a bit more public, least things go sour.

* * *

The Stanger's name is Albus Dumbledore; Order of Merlin, first class, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

Samuel's not sure what even half of the man's titles mean but he knows the man's either recklessly brave or a complete fool for admitting any connection to magic. Even though he knows its impossible, his emerald eyes dart about as though searching for anyone who could overhear the man.

He half expects a mob to pop up out of thin air; waving guns, swords and torches as they shout out demand to burn the other at a stake. From the slight tension in Corvo's shoulder's he likely exacts the same to happen.

When it doesn't happen, Samuel forces himself to relax and refocus on the colorblind man- for why else would be wear something so hideous?

Dumbledore spins a tale of mystic wonder, romance, love and betrayal like a storyteller of old about Lilly and James Potter and their son, Harry; who apparently killed a man- some self claimed Dark Lord- when he was but a year old.

Honestly, it sounds more to Samuel of a child's fantasy then an actually life. Corvo's scowl tells exactly what the Serkonian thinks of the _'Wizard's'_ story.

He believes one of them is this Harry Potter but even his spell proves otherwise as two names float over their heads in words of fire:

Samuel Beechworth

Corvo Attano

A dark look of frustration flashes in the man's eyes for a moment before its gone, replaced by the unnatural twinkle once more. He's stubborn, Samuel will give him that as the man seems to though out countless spells but they all end with the same results:

Samuel Beechworth and Corvo Attano.

Corvo all but mirrors his scowl at that point.

* * *

Despite attempting to build a huddle by the lake, they end up spending the night in the medical wing.

The nurse; Poppy, reminds Samuel of a fierce and outspoken Cecelia. She spends a good two hours lecturing him about his health and needing to take better care of himself while shoving vial after vial of what she calls potions into his arms. Corvo, the bastard, just stands to the side with laughter clear in his dark eyes.

And though he's not one usually for it, Samuel swears revenge.

Still, he cannot deny he feels lighter, younger even by time the nurse is done. His lungs no longer feel heavy or clouded smog and even the stress lines are gone from his face. His bones no longer feel as though they're going to break with a strong wind. He spends a good ten minutes gawking at a face he hasn't seen in thirty years with a smug nurse standing only feet behind him.

He doesn't dare to look Corvo's why but he does take the effort to throw the nearest object- a rather thick tome- at the younger when he mentions needing more _'luck'_.

That night he's woken from a semi-peaceful sleep by sharp pain.

He's not very surprised to find Corvo has crawled into his bed, they where safer this way, but it makes it slightly difficult to free his hand from under the man without waking him yet Samuel manages it. Lifting the corner of his glove, emerald eyes stare at the glowing mark burning darker then the boatman has ever seen before.

Erland is furious if not outright livid.

Fingers press against the mark focusing solely on the deity and thankfully the pain stops.

 _'Where?'_

Erland's voice echoes though his mind but Samuel's not quite sure how to answer that. No map he managed to catch a glimpse of look even similar to what their world did. There where multiple, whole and complete landmasses instead of the five he was used to. Samuel had his doubts they where still in their own world.

 _'Let me in.'_

Relaxing, Samuel pulls his glove back down and closes his eyes, allowing the deity to rampage through his memories without resistance. A part of him can't help but wonder if Erland had ever bothered teaching Corvo how to contact him...

Probably not. This was Erland after all.

It wouldn't be as entertaining if you just outright told them. It was so much more amusing watching them scramble about like a chicken without its head, desperately trying to find a proper way to contact him when they needed him.

* * *

Samuel wakes with the sun, an old habit he never quite managed to kick. Its a bit of a hassle escaping Corvo's grasp but he manages. The other thankfully sleeps on.

He needs a shower and he'd rather not have to worry about wither or not he's being spied upon...Again.

The shower is... Unique but in a good way. He doesn't have to fill and boil buckets of water like he normally would, instead they just turn a nob in the wall; one for cold and one for hot, both for warm.

Apparently there's pipes behind the walls twisted into a system called plumbing that carries water to you and then there's a pipe under the smooth silver area with wholes in it that carries the dirty water away. Its a rather pleasant idea, especially since all he had to do was push down a handle instead of dealing with the mess of a chamber pot.

He wonders if he could find a way to bring them _'plumbing_ ' back with them.

He clothes are clean when he's done, well clean was a bit of an understatement; his clothes look brand new lacking the worn look and hand sewn stitches they had gained over the years. He decides then and there, Poppy is his favorite person belonging to this world.

He pockets his toothbrush and heads to check on Corvo.

The Royal Protector's awake but he's not alone, floating a few feet to his right is Erland and sitting just across form them on another bed is Dumbledore himself, cheerfully ignoring both Deity and the Royal Protector's blazing glare with a sense of obviousness Samuel didn't think anyone was capable of having.

Anyone but Albus Dumbledore it appears, as the aged wizard keeps smiling, his eyes twinkling brighter- serious that man should see a doctor about that- when they landed upon the boatman.

"Ah, Harry. You're friend here explained everything. Of course I'm sure he was exaggerating in some categories. I must say, you have quite a curious case."

Samuel can't help but stare blankly for a moment before looking to the two men across from the wizard.

"What the hell is he talking about?"

* * *

Upon first glance, Erland, better known to most as The Outsider decides he doesn't like the wizard known as Albus Dumbledore.

The man may hid behind the Grandfatherly act he puts on but to the Void all is known, all is visible. Every dark secret, every lie, murder, deceit, plan and plot ever considered, he knows it all. It doesn't take him long to figure out this 'Harry Potter' was actually the young boy named 'Freak'. Freak of who he granted a new life in another word as Samuel.

Dumbledore thinks its Corvo and at first Erland is alright with that until he hits the plan to murder Harry Potter for the 'Greater Good' and once more he speaks without thinking- maybe Samuel was onto something there.

"Stay away from Samuel."

Its a mistake to say, Erland knows it the moment the words leave his lips and two sets of eyes lock on him.

"Samuel?'

"He does have Lilly's eyes, but I didn't exact him to be so old..."

He gives Attano a sharp nod, eyes narrowing on the wizard, "I believe their Harry Potter is a child I meet in the world named Freak. I granted Freak another chance by having his soul reborn into another world."

And there was his mistake, how they managed to steal what was his out from under his nose. Magic was connected to the soul, he should have torn Samuel's out before having him reincarnated. Because they didn't their Goblet of Fire managed to not only locate but drag Samuel and in turn Corvo into another world entirely. If only Samuel was a bit younger, he could correct his mistake and take that belonged to him home without worry they would drag him- and knowing the other, Corvo- back.

He likes Dumbledore even less when he follows the other's train of thought.

He knew. That Damn Wizard knew about the abuse, he paid them to do so. If he hadn't show when he did...

If he hadn't chosen Freak as His...

He wonders if killing the man would break his pact.

Well maybe not, if he used Corvo to do it that is. And if that didn't work, can anyone fault him if the wizard happened to _accidently_ walk into a portal into the void- those things where so tricky to keep tract of after all. Who knew when one might go rouge?

Of course then mortal wizard ignores his warning and even dares to call his Samuel Harry.

A blank look covers the other's face but he can see the confusion in his boatman's eyes.

"What the hell is he talking about?"

* * *

He didn't like this Albus Dumbledore before but now... The only thing keeping him from making the other a shish kabob is the tight grip he keeps on Samuel's arm. He doesn't understand it all but he understands enough.

This Harry Potter was a child who didn't even know his own name, believing it to actually be Freak that befriended the void's embodiment. Freak in turn for the outsider's mark got a whole new life though reincarnation. Therefore Harry Potter and Freak where Dead. Samuel Beechworth was still Samuel Beechworth... Just maybe with a familiar design on the skin under his gloves.

Yet this senile man expected Samuel to be Harry, to give up everything for a world not his own. Like hell he'd let that happen and judging from the looks neither would The Outsider.

After all, Samuel was the Royal Boatman; he had to come home or Emily would throw a fit and never be able to go anywhere since the young Empress refused to allow anyone else to cart her around.


	3. Chapter 3

His name is Samuel Beechworth.

He's the Royal Boatman for Empress Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin I, Ex-Boatman for the Loyalist, Retired Marine and Oldest Companion of The Outsider.

He is no Harry Potter, despite what Dumbledore will claim. He is no hero, just a side piece to a greater puzzle, and he's content to continue being such. He is no savior, if anything Corvo alone deserves that title. He is no boy nor has he been one for decades and while he lived, and still does, he didn't do it for them. He does it for himself.

Dumbledore does not seem to understand that; he talks of robes, wands, and Legacies that Samuel wants absolutely nothing to do with. He is a boatman and boatman's have no need for magic that would see then dead within an hour. If he was truly desperate he supposed he could use his birthmark but Samuel tries to avoid relying on it.

The boatman wants nothing to do with this world or their tournament but it seems Fate has decided to focus her games on him for a change as not even Erland can safely get him out of this. His magic is entwined with his soul and if torn out at his current age it will most likely kill him. If he does not participate, the Goblet will take his magic and in turn his life.

Fate hates him, Samuel decides.

He still refuses the wand, robe and legacy. He refuses to be associated with Hogwarts when Dumbledore wishes to announce him as their second champion; but he does not refuse a trip to The Hogwarts' Library. Knowledge is power and a library may as well be the Holy Grail itself.

He buries himself alive under an ever growing pile of maps, history, laws, politics, anything and everything he thinks can help. He scowls when Erland places a stack of books on Runes and Wards next to him but decides to look over them anyway; the deity rarely did anything without reason even if Samuel didn't understand it right then and there.

Corvo just watches him and Samuel knows the man wants to talk but isn't quite sure what to bring up first; for that the boatman is thankful. He's not quite ready for the discussion he knows is coming. And comes it does.

Under the darkness of the moonless night, Samuel says not a word as fingers guide over pale skin, tracing the birthmark with upmost care.

* * *

Dragons.

Black scaled, yellow cat like eyes, sharp bronze horns and spikes at the end of its tail. It kind of reminds Samuel of a lizard; a furiously, nestling, man eating lizard that just so happened to be capable of breathing fifty feet of- melt your skin off your bones and your bones to ashes- fire.

They want him to steal a golden egg from it; a golden egg sitting in its nest surrounded by its future offspring's.

Corvo all but mirrors his disbelief as the boatman stares blankly upon the heavy, man eating mass before him raging louder then the crowd around them. Samuel does the only logically thing he can; He sits cross-legged on the ground pulling out a piece of wood and his pocketknife.

He works diligently, ignoring the impatient whispers of the crowd as time passes: Ten minutes, twenty, thirty, an hour, two hours. Samuel doesn't really care about the time as he's absorbed into his woodwork.

The Dragon must no longer deem him a threat for by time he's done its covering its nest with its body mass, ignoring him entirely. He pockets the newly carved wooden dragon before walking out of the arena. Corvo and Erland are waiting for him in the medical tent, the Royal Protector holding a golden egg.

He's the first person in history to get a Perfect Zero in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Samuel doesn't really care; he's alive and whole with a brand new wood carving for Emily sitings smugly in his pocket.

The Wizards become rather fixated he gets a wand after that, blaming his poor 'preformacne' on the lack of proper materials. Samuel is rather stubborn himself but in the end he finds himself with a dark piece of elder wood, at exactly nine and three fourth inches, containing the heartstring from an elder river dragon . For some reason that upsets Dumbledore, who's rather insistent he's given a wand made of Holly wood containing a phoenix feather.

Samuel enjoys the sight of the elder wand maker tearing into the man about trying to force a wand on him without it choosing him. The boatman pockets his new fount wand in an attempt to forget about it but that's easier said then done when Erland keeps dropping aged worn tomes into his lap every hour on the hour. Samuel looks them over and memorizes the key points even if the boatman has no actually intentions of using the them.

As for the golden egg, despite its looks is only golden on the outside. The boatman wonders if its actually a weapon upon hearing it for the first time.

* * *

When he's not buried under a pile of tomes, Samuel takes up fishing for a past time. He crafts a makeshift fishing pole from a branch of a tree that attempts to take his head off and some wire he keeps in one of his jacket's pockets.

He's not quite sure what he caught but he knows its not a fish- or at least not any he's ever seen before and as a sailor he's seen a lot. Half human and half fish, but not quite a mermaid, it screeches sounding almost identical to the one from the egg.

Its furious, not that Samuel can blame it.

The boatman speaks in a calm tone as he works tediously on freeing the creature from his wire without losing any of his fingers in the process. Its not easy but he manages.

* * *

A ball.

It makes the boatman uncomfortable with how many girls, who are young enough to be his grandchild, ask him to accompany them with **_that_ ** look in their eyes. He lies and tells them how sorry he is but he already has a date.

He doesn't actually have any plans to attend- tradition or not. Instead he hopes to spend the time working on another Amaranth.

He's never truly felt comfortable on land and the idea of being able to escape out to sea- even if its only a large lake- whenever he desires is too much to ignore.

Only hours after he makes up his mind, Corvo asks him to the dance. He doesn't have it in him to crush that hopeful, pleading look in the younger's dark eyes.

It seems his new Amaranth would have to wait for another night.

Samuel doesn't like suits, he always feels as though they're trying to restrain him, one of the few reasons he never bother buttoning up his own vest. Though he suppose the slight darkening of the Royal Proctor's face well made up for the slight discomfort.

He spends his night trading hands around the dancefloor while ignoring whispers about his choice of date, and eventually settling down in the corner of the room with Corvo talking to a young Seer Erland introduced as Luna Lovegood and her date; Neville Longbottom. All in all, its not that bad of a night; one of his best actually.

* * *

Samuel raised a brow as he meet the younger's dark eyes.

"They tried to kidnap me. "  
For a moment a strong silence filled the air as a sense of puzzlement surrounded the boatman.

"I beg your pardon? I think I'm losing my hearing. "

An amused glint entered those dark eyes at the elder's disbelieving tone.

"You're hearing is just fine Samuel but just incase you misheard: They attempted to kidnap me so they could use me as a hostage against you in their so called _'task'_."

Kidnap Corvo? Samuel honestly didn't think anyone was that stupid.

Hostage? Yeah right, look at what happened to all the other people who tried.

What did they expect him to do, Rescue Corvo? Like Hell, Corvo didn't need rescuing. All Samuel would need to do is sit in his boat; working on another carving; while waiting for the Royal Protector to return on his own.

"Corvo, I don't think these Wizards have so much as a lick of logic or self preserving instincts between the lot of them. "

"Funny. I was thinking the same thing. "

A soft snort comes the deity as he glances up from his book.

"You two are just now figuring that out?"

* * *

They stuck children at the bottom of the lake.

Samuel's certain there should be something against that in the school charters but it confuses him about why the claim its ' _someone he'd miss'_ as both Corvo and Erland are only standing inches away from him.

"Exactly who's down there for me?"

"Why, Ms. Ginevra Weasley of course."

Dumbledore sounds smug as if the name should mean something to him. It does but not in the way the man likely hopes for: Ginevra 'Ginny' Weasley was his worse stalker.

"In that case."

Turning on heel, Samuel heads back to the castle with the laughter of Erland ringing in his ears. Its nothing personal and usually the boatman would at least put in an effort but only the day before the young girl had given him chocolates which he in turn had given to Corvo and had to spend the whole day with a love sick Serkonian until Poppy managed to flush out the Love Potion.

Samuel wasn't sure what disturbed him more; Corvo professing undying love for a child or that said child attempted to feed a Love Potion to a man she didn't know that was old enough to be her Grandfather.

* * *

Dumbledore is disappointed and had Samuel been a child, he might have cared but as it is he couldn't care less. If they where uncertain of safety in the matter they shouldn't have stuck children at the bottom of a lake; though the boatman is surprised to find none of them drowned he deems its due to magic of some sort.

The boatman eventually gets fed up of the Headmasters constant attempts at guilting him and ask the man if he was so worried why didn't he jump to the bottom of a lake to rescue them? The wizard has no answer but gains a look as though he swallowed a lemon whole.

He doesn't care.

Dumbledore needs to find his way out of Samuel's life before the boatman finds a way to throw him overboard for the leviathan to devour. A part of him wonders if he could somehow convenience Erland to have the creature somehow locate itself into the Black Lake.

It would be rather entertaining to watch after all.

Then again, if it did no one would be able to leave the school and once Amaranth II was done, Samuel planned to sail to the other side of the lake to find out exactly what was out there- for surely this stone castle of a school and a narrow cobblestone street couldn't be the only thing to exist out there... Hopefully, if not and this really was all there was to this world, Samuel decided he would be moving into the void immediately rather then waiting for his physical body to die first as he originally agreed to.

Wouldn't Erland be pleased?

Knowing how childish the deity could be, he'd likely destroy whatever's out there- if anything at all- just to get the boatman there sooner rather then later. At that thought, emerald eyes slowly darted about half expecting the deity to appear out of thin air with that unholy smile that only came when he did something he know Samuel wouldn't approve of and void filled eyes. After a few moments and no surprise visits or sudden shifts of the void, the boatman allowed himself to relax.

A week later, the Amaranth II was completely constructed and baptized- using something called Firewhiskey a pair of rouge haired twins managed to smuggle to him- with her captain plus his usual passenger ready to set sail.

They leave at early dawn, before even the sun has a chance to rise.


	4. Chapter 4

The boatman watched in silence as the mass of fire began to peek over the horizon causing wavelengths of orange and red hues extended across the night sky, driving away the stars as it swept further and further into the unknown. The Morning rays fell from the sky like fire reaching from the heavens to alight the water below.

It was beautiful, a sight he had never grown tired of despite witnessing it millions of times before.

Reaching into his pocket, the elder man pulled out a cigar placing the tip of it within the corner of his lip as hands deafly searched for the matches he could of sworn he had only moments before. Yet they weren't; his pockets where suspiciously empty of the silver-plated match box his father had granted him within his youth.

Don't tell him Poppy had discovered those as we-

Ka-sshh.

He froze hearing the sound of a familiar friction caused by a chemical tip striking an abrasive surface, smelling the faint burning of wood from behind him. Taking a breath, Samuel turned on heel; facing an amused looking Royal Protector holding lite match in one hand and his silver matchbox in the other.

Right. He had forgotten about the others shifty hands, his habits of picking up everything and everything; even if it was in another's pockets. For a moment, Samuel pondered on wither or not to debate the man but the match was burning and he couldn't quite recall how many he had left within the box.

Leaning forward, the Boatman took a puff of his cigar causing the tip to lite as his other hand closed around Corvo's own and his matchbox. He didn't want to wish the man pocketing it after all- he still wasn't quite sure where everything the younger pocketed went, only that everything he did pocket was never seen again.

"I believe that's mine."

His gruff voice cut into the silence as he plucked the matchbox from the other's hands, shoving it deep into his beast pocket; only to catch slender wrists a moment later as the younger openly attempted to pluck it back out.

A snowy brow rose as if to ask 'really' as the boatman's mouth opened to verbally speak his disbelief before his mind froze, for the first time taking in exactly how close the they where.

Too close.

The boatman could feel every muscle in the younger's body with even the slightest of breathes, he could see every scar on the younger's face- every slight mar and indention caused by time's healing- with an extreme detail, he could feel the younger's scorching breath against his neck.

Samuel could practically hear the warning bells all but deafening him as they screeched inside his head when the younger titled his head slightly, leaning forward with clear intentions.

Too Close, Too God-Damn Close.

Letting go of the other's hands as though they where on fire, Samuel took a step back. Only to feel the back of his leg connect with the edge behind him.

Shit.

He could see dark eyes widening slight right before-

 **Splash!**

"Samuel!"

The water was like ice, seeping through his clothes and into his bones in a matter of seconds. He stayed frozen for only a moment due to the shock caused by the sudden shift in his body temperature before old instincts surfaced and Samuel began to force his way back towards the surface.

As much as he loved the ocean, this wasn't his and only the Gods knew what lurked within its depts.

The thought alone must have tempted Fate as only seconds after it was born, Samuel could feel something wrap around his waist before he suddenly fount himself airborne; landing back inside the Amaranth II with a worried Royal Protector looming over him.

* * *

Hogsmeade was a picturesque little village of cottages and shops- thank God there actually was something else out there- though Samuel's favorite part of the village was Hog's Head; a rather small dirty, dingy Pub/Inn owned by an Aberforth Dumbledore.

Nothing quite warmed one's body and soul like a bottle of alcohol and good company. Though it helped Aberforth disliked his brother as much as Samuel and Corvo. Hell, even the Erland appeared to disliked the man- something Samuel had never quite seen before as the Deity appeared to find everyone entertaining to watch.

Speaking of Erland, Samuel couldn't help but wondered what the deity was currently up to.

 _In the headmasters office..._

"Achoo!"

Erland couldn't help but scowl as another sneeze left him causing the bottle of laxative he was holding to completely tip over into the aged wizard's lemon drop instead of the few drops he had originally planned upon.

Opps... Oh well, it'd probably be more entertaining this way.

 _Back at The Hog's Head..._

Eh, The deity was likely bored out of his mind without them nearby to harass. He was probably sulking about with nothing to do expect come up with new ways to be entertained. A shiver rushed down the Boatman's spine recalling the last time Erland had been left alone long enough to do so.

A bored Erland was a dangerous Erland, something his old Elite Unit- thirty of both the Marines and Seals best men- would gladly justify to. If one could speak with the souls of the Dead and the Damned that is.

Just recalling the way the leviathan had... Never mind, seems he's forgotten.

While watching the Professors and Headmaster attempt to change the lava back into a floor, the Outsider sadly shook his head. For a man who came to sea to forget, Samuel sure did attempt to remember a lot of things. His Boatman was lucky he was around to ensure the other never quite managed it.

A cheerful smile came to the deity's face as he heard a blood curling scream echoed in the distance of the castle, it seems he got someone after all. Now to see if they managed to survive.

* * *

He woke to a salty breeze and the sound of waves beating against the Amaranth II's hull. If one was to ask the aging boatman he would claim it the most relaxing sound in the world's history; as it never once failed to smooth his nerves and wary mind.

His Father once claimed it was because Samuel was born of the sea, a small miracle from its darkest depths that always sought his way back. Samuel had laughed then, in a way he supposed his Father was. The sea was his home, of where he was the safest and of where his physical body will likely die upon. It was his paradise; just him, the Amaranth and the body curled into him for warm-

Wait...

Body?

Emerald eyes flew open, quickly darting to the side to figure out who was intruding on his boat and his being only to pause as they met the sleeping face of the Royal Protector. Oh right... Another world, another Amaranth, and Corvo; Samuel had forgotten for a moment. He could of sworn he had laid Corvo on the other side of the Amaranth II though, yet there he was; curled into an old man like him with the boatman's jacket pulled over the both of them like a cover.

Samuel had half a mind to get up and move to the other side of the boat after taking his jacket and covering the younger with the blanket less then two feet away but to be honest, the boatman was rather comfortable and quite warm. Either way, what's to say moving wouldn't wake the younger? After Samuel first retrieved the man from the sewers of Coldridge; Corvo had woken to even the slightest of things: breathing, light steps up the stairs, a shift in the weather. He was a rather light sleeper who when woken always seemed to find his way outside and into Samuel's Huddle- a haunted look within those dark eyes as he attempted to hide from a threat that wasn't quite there.

The younger looked so peaceful now the Boatman fount himself wavering. Maybe, just this once; Samuel would allow it. They where well out of sight of both Hogsmeade and Hogwarts; No one would ever know.

Closing his eyes, Samuel aloud himself to drift back to sleep.

Everyone knew.

Samuel could feel the heat on his face as he quickly moved down the hallway towards the medical wing; his fingers clenching at his side with the urge to strangle the smug bastard walking next to him. How was he to know the Amaranth II would drift into Hogwarts' bay while they where asleep? How was he to know students would be relaxing on the shore as they drifted in? How was he to know Corvo would be the first to wake and start sprouting nonsense. Lovers? Falling asleep within each other's arms on a romantic boat ride?

Never happened.

Why was it so hard for anyone to believe that? Where the hell had Corvo got that nonsense from? What was romantic about two drunks managing to set theirselves adrift? Yet everyone believed the younger insistently- Samuel supposed it was apart of the younger's natural charm- while taking his denial as embarrassment.

Even McGonagall had smile knowingly- what was there to know- as Dumbledore's eyes had twinkled even brighter with a soft sigh of _'Young Love'_. He wasn't young and he wasn't in love.

 **NOTHING HAPPENED!**

He should have threw the younger overboard while he had the chance.

The Boatman paused- causing the Royal Protector to collide with his back- upon setting foot in the Medical Wing. The place was flooded, every bed and even mattresses on the floor covered with people from all three schools. Samuel could barely see a sliver of floor within the whole wing. Poor Poppy was running herself ragged attempting to attend to all her new fount patients at once with little success.

What the hell happened while they where gone?

The boatman had half a mind to step back out of the room and relocate himself to the library- all the while pretending he didn't see anything. It wasn't to be.

"Samuel!" Poppy had finally noticed them. "Where have you been? No, never mind that; Help me!"

He didn't even have a moment to protest before the Boatman fount himself being dragged into the room.

* * *

"I'm going to kill you."

Dark Wizard? Ha, Dark Wizard his arse. Samuel knew Erland's handiwork when he saw it.

"Now, Now, Samuel. Lets not do something you'd regret."

"Regret? Oh no, I'm going to enjoy every second of this. "

Considering the day he had, someone needed to pay and why the immortal deity? He was just as responsible as Corvo. Maybe when he was finished here, Samuel would hunt down said bastard and teach him a lesson as well. Then Dumbledore- The boatman wondered if anyone would blame him if the man happened to trip off the Astronomy Tower?

Now that he thought about it, this was all Dumbledore's fault wasn't it?

If the elderly wizard had left them alone; Samuel would be happily carting Emily across the sea while telling her stories most girls couldn't care less for, he'd enjoying the brief moments of life. Not trapped here in another world where even the sea felt different.

Maybe if they weren't here Corvo and Erland wouldn't- wouldn't what? A soft frown drifted onto the boatman's face before he shook his head hard enough to cause snowy bangs to fall out of place and into his eyes.

Never mind, he's forgotten again.

Watching his Boatman leave the room, The Outsider couldn't help but sigh in relief. That had been close, a few more moments and...Well he'd rather not think about it.


	5. Chapter 5

There was a funeral that afternoon.

Samuel wasn't quite sure who Igor Karkaroff was but it didn't matter now. Dead man tell no tales and no one really seemed to care that the man had died, not even his own students.

It was rather depressing- and not because Karkaroff was dead- actually.

Of course the man's death was all but forgotten once the party started and then overshadowed by the third task. Honestly, what was wrong with these people?

Dragons, holding children at the bottom of lakes with creatures that can strip skin off bone, and now a maze full of creatures that wished to kill them all.

Why where these people allowed near children to began with? If anything the whole lot of them deserved to be locked up in the securest Insane Asylum as far, far away from the school as possible.

* * *

"Kill the Spare!"

It was insticnt alone that had Samuel tackling the younger boy; Cedric; to the ground causing the emerald light the same shade as his eyes to connect with his shoulder, knocking both the elder man and the Hufflepuff onto the golden cup. An enraged scream filled the air.

White.

All around him, consuming him. The boatman wasn't quite sure where he was only that it wasn't the graveyard he had been within only moments before. There was no one, nothing, as far as the eye could see.

Where had the damn cup taken him this time?

It didn't matter, he had a cup and child to find. Maybe a third time would be the charm? Standing, the Boatman brushed himself off before picking a random direction and started walking. Yet no matter how far or how long he walked all Samuel could see was white.

No ground, no sky, no wall or floor. Just plain, bright white. What he wouldn't give for his Amaranth right now. All this white was drving him insane.

He blinked.

Water.

"What the hell?"

He was no longer in the white void but sitting within his beloved Amaranth with nothing but the wide ocean around him as far as the eye could see while the night sky shined down from above. Leaning over the Amaranth's edge, emerald eyes glanced into the abyss.

He could see the faces within the water as lights rose from beneath the waves and into the sky. He could hear the soft singing of a well known tune.

 _Home_ , his mind whisphered, but it wasn't. Something wasn't quite right. Something was missing.

"Samuel Beechworth."

Emerald eyes darted towards the voice, only to find another man sitting in his Amaranth. He was dressed in a fine suit, one usually only a Noble wore, with a black cloak thrown over it.

 _Not human_ , his mind whisphered only moments before the man's very image seemed to flicker before solidifying once more. A part of Samuel felt he should be startled at least but the boatman couldn't find it within hismelf to do so. He had a feeling this... Man, if he could be called that, knew what exactly was going on. Answers would be nice, far more logical then blind panic at the least.

"I belive this is the third time you've come to visit me but never quite made it. I don't suspose you'll be willing to stay this time?"

"I don't suspose you know where we are?"

He wasn't dumb enough to agree to stay somewhere when he had no idea where he was to began with. The man glanced out at the sea around them before speaking,

"Inbetween. Standing with a foot frimly within the living and the dead but not enough to belong to either. "

Living? Dead? What the hell did that cup do to him?

"If wasn't the cup, but the Killing Curse- the emerald light. The cup has only brought both your body and Cedric Diggory back to the start of the maze."

Killing Curse, he had heard of it before when Dumbledore went on another of his rants about the Potter legacy. No one had been willing to say the words for the spell though. It would have been nice to know so that he knew to fully avoid the pretty light show. Though why the being- Diety if his theory was correct- was offering him a choice was beyod the boatman. Wasn't Death suspsoed to be a one way street? If he just offered anyone to go back everyone would be raising from the grave ever ten seconds.

"Can I go back?"

"If you wish to, though I will require something in return."

Ah, that made more sense. Though if the Diety asked for his Soul...

The boatman's thoughts were cut short by a rather amused chuckled.

"No, Samuel Beechworth. I do not want your soul; I want what's hiding within it. Though I'm afraid to take that, I may have to take a bit from you as well."

* * *

When the pain finally stopped and his vision cleared the first thing Samuel Beechworth noticed was White.

For a brief moment, the boatman was certain he was back at that place until a breath had the white lifting every so slightly from his face. A sheet. Oh.. That's right, he had been nicked by that 'Killing Curse'. They likely thought him dead. He couldn't fault them there but really, they should stop arguing, the sudden noise felt as though it was going to deafen him.

An annoyed scowl, marred the boatman's face as the voices grew louder as though taunting him.

Really, where they that childish?

Sitting up in a single movement had the sheet falling into his lap as the Boatman spoke,

"Would you all quiet down? You'll wake the dead at this rate."

Silence. Blissful utter silence.

"S-Samuel? I-Is that you?"

Corvo choked on his voice causing emerald eyes to flicker other to the Royal Protector before glancing at the group standing across from the man. Who the hell where half these people?

Is that you? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Who else could it be? Cecelia?

"Corvo, who else would I be?"

Why was everyone staring at him like that? Was there something on his face? A pale hand instantly went up as though to check only to freeze halfway there. What the hell?

Over the Samuel had adapted a number of scars upon his fingers from his life, some of which had become permit, marring his skin in a way which ensured they would never fade away like other. Yet these hands where lacking and his gloves where a bit oversized despite having fitted perfectly only hours before.

This wasn't right.

Glancing downward, Samuel with greeted with the knowledge it was only his gloves that had grown but rather his whole outfit. Pressing a hand to his face, fingers deafly ran over skin, searching for the scars he knew where there, but weren't. Tugging at his hair, the boatman pulled it into his sight only to feel his breath hitch.

Black.

Starless sky black.

Black not the snowy white he had grown used to.

His hair hadn't been that shade of black since he turned thirty when the first strains of silver hair had began to show theirselves. Samuel felt as though he couldn't breathe, as if oxygen itself had been stripped from him lungs.

 _'I may have to take a bit from you as well.'_

The voice echoed through his head causing emerald eyes to narrow. This was not part of the deal.

* * *

His name is Samuel Beechworth. He's sixty-eight years old. His hair has long since lost its original color settling instead upon the color of freshly fallen snow. His eyes dulled from over the years but hold an edge of intelligence that only comes with age. His body is marred from the years and he has one foot in the grave...

Well that's what he would have told anyone who asked him only hours before.

His name is Samuel Beechworth. He's Twenty-three years old. His hair is the color of the starless sky, his eyes are a brilliant emerald that despite their bright shine holding an edge of wisdom to them that only comes from age. The scars he's collected over the years have faded; leaving a few stray ones behind like the one through his eye.

He's in an awkward position with unwanted attention and no possible explanation- or at least one he can actually tell anyone. His name is Samuel Beechworth and the only thing he's sure of is:

He's screwed.

* * *

"What do you mean you can't send us back?!"

Samuel could feel his finger's itch to strangle the smiling fool before him as he glared death.

"My Boy-"

"I'm not your boy!"

"Now Harry-"

"My name is Samuel, Samuel Beechworth."

"Very well then, Samuel," The boatman gritted his teeth to keep himself from snapping that wizard, "When the Goblet summoned you and your friend; Mr. Attano it didn't come with a way to send you back. We have been researching but it could take months if not years to do so."

He was going to kill him. Slowly and as painfully as possible.

"Of course you and Mr. Attano are welcome to stay at Hogwarts until we find a way to send you two back."

"No."

"I beg your pardon."

Emerald eyes practically glowed with barely suppressed fury.

"We are not staying here."

"Then I'm sure you're Godfather-"

"My Godfather is dead."

"I assure you, Sirius is quite fine; My boy. And more then willing to house you and Mr. Attano."

Why did Samuel feel as though he'd have better luck taking to a brick wall here? The longer he spent in the wizards presence the more favorable Samuel fount the Astronomy Tower becoming. If he played his cards right, he'd have a rock solid alibi by time they locate the body.

* * *

Despite knowing how uncomfortable it makes the boatman, he finds it hard to peel his eyes away from the old- well younger- now. To be honest, Corvo had fount the Samuel to be attractive when he was in his sixties. There was just something about him that subconsciously drew you in without even meaning to.

He had it all: The looks, the personality, unwavering loyalty, natural kindness, a good friend in a despite time that grow into a bit more though the elder resisted his subtle attempts. Yet he never once even considered flaunting it; it was almost as if the boatman didn't even realize he had drawn you in and with time Corvo realized that's exactly what had happened.

It was hard to look away then but now that the man was trapped within his Prime; The Royal Protector fount it impossible to even consider doing so. He couldn't afford to. He wasn't the only who had noticed how much of a _'Perfect Person'_ Samuel was. It was almost as though every time he turned his back someone new was trying to weasel their way into the position he had worked so long for and not all of them wanted to do it the right way.

Damn Magic.

Love Potions, Compulsion Charms, Seduction Charms, ectra...

The Royal Protector felt as though if he turned his back for even a moment, they would have the boatman wrapped within their unnatural webs and faulty emotions.

What was wrong with a good old fashioned Courtship? A relationship was supposed to take time, dedication, and maybe a young Empress'- who couldn't help but get herself involve once she figured out the truth- help. They were so blinded by their fantasies- and so confident in their 'Magic'- none of them where attempting to see who Samuel really was.

"Achoo!"

His eyes zeroed in on said boatman as a flicker of annoyance flashed in the jewels he called eyes.

"You think they'd have better things to do then talk about an old man."

Dark eyes moved over the other's face; taking in the smooth skin, bright, intelligent eyes, and dark hair. Old...

Samuel obviously wasn't used to being this young again as _'old'_ was the last thing Corvo would use to describe the agitated Boatman. Dark eyes glanced down at the Heart in his hand, he wondered if he asked now what it would say about the other.

* * *

To be honest, in the beginning Erland quite enjoyed the entertainment this world granted him but now...

They had gotten His boatman killed- even if only temporally- outside of his world. Any amusement he had once felt died quicker then a Zealot openly broadcasting his magic to The Church. It didn't help the so called _'Leader of the Light'_ was still attempting to openly manipulate what was His.

The Outsider had officially had enough of this world and its people. If they wanted to steal from him, manipulate and eventually kill what was His, they where going to have to do it from His World not theirs. Lets see how they liked being in a world they didn't belong- without so much as a choice- in where their very existence was enough to have them executed.

Now that would be entertaining to observe.

 **AN: Poor Samuel just can't catch a break. Nyet, he hasn't been de-aged or at least in the way most people would think but rather its an aftereffect of what was taken from him.**


	6. Chapter 6

Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin, the First of her Name, Empress of Dunwall; had seen and done a great many things within her short twenty-five years of life. She had witness her mother's death, been kidnaped as part of a plot to gain control of her kingdom, befriended the loyalist, betrayed a few of those she trusted, kidnaped again in hopes to control her kingdom, thrown off a cliff when her father came to rescue her, rescued by Samuel.

She was crowded Empress, as was rightfully hers. Manage the salvage the ruins of her kingdom and see them into prosperity, figured out her father was in love with the boatman of her youth and therefore hunted down the kind hearted boatman and blackmailed him into being her Royal Boatman. It seemed only yesterday her Father had helped the age ridden Samuel into the Amaranth before sailing out to sea, only for both men to disappear without a trace.

The Empress had spent a great many of years staring longingly out at the ocean, half expecting the two to suddenly pop up out of thin air where Samuel would proceed to tell her how they managed to get stranded or some island, or perhaps eaten by that tusked leviathan the elder once told her about.

She had still been holding on to that delusion when her Mother's half-sister; Delilah Cooperson attempted to steal her throne and forced her to run. With help of the Outsider's mark and Loyalist Aid. A part of her recalled how she had wished it was Samuel driving her about and that her father had been there to help aid her in her time of need. But in the end, Delilah had been trapped within a magical portrait of her own making and Emily had once more taken up the throne.

She had thought she had seen everything.

But nothing quite manage to cut it like watching a whole island appear just on the horizon.

* * *

He knows.

The boatman's not sure how but he knows the moment the spinning stops where they are. Its almost as if another part of him, he was unaware was missing, had suddenly been returned once more.

"Where the Hell are we now?'

Corvo all but growls as the Royal Protector forces his way to his feet once more. Samuel can't find it within himself to blame the other- with the way they where being yanked from one place to another these day- but he can feel the smile forming as he answers.

"Home."

He doesn't give the younger turned order a chance to respond before boatman's back onto his feet and rushing for the nearest window.

On the Horizon he can see ships, sailing towards the island with an all too familiar flag.

Hands plant theirselves on the windowpane, trapping the boatman between them, only moments before Corvo's looking over his shoulder. He could see the moment understanding crossed the Royal Protector's mind as his dark eyes seem to brighten and a smile finds its way to his face.

"Finally."

* * *

The First thing Emily notices is the riverboat. It looks almost like any other river boat if not for the subtle fact its been hand carpeted or its name: _'Amaranth'_.

Its almost identical to the boat sitting within the palace vault...

Leaning over the edge, a glint of silver shoved under one of the seats catches her eyes. Blindly reaching, her hands run over a smooth cool surface before pulling it free for all of the world to see. The Empress feels as though someone has stripped the very oxygen from her lungs.

Its a mask made of dull silver cloth sewn on the inside and held together by pieces of wire. Bright blue 'eyes' stare up at her from their 'sockets'. She knows this mask, she had witness her father bare it too many times not to.

She's now sure when she started running up the pathway but she takes notice upon doing so when she rushes past her guards.

They're here.

They have to be.

* * *

The Boatman was certain, if he was able to he would have run, but as it was he was currently a tad bit... Busy. Yeah, that was the word he was looking for. Busy, nothing inconspicuous about that.

A happy Corvo was a quite touchy one. The boatman wasn't quite sure he minded- he was just in that good of a mood- though if they didn't part soon he was likely to die of asphyxiation.

"CORVO! SAMUEL!"

Splitting apart, Both men shared a look before rushing down the stairs, towards the voice of their Empress.

Usually Samuel fount the ever shifting Hogwarts Stairwell unnatural but amusing. He would spend a good hour watching students attempt to navigate the stairwell only to end up in the exact same place they started. What could he say, It was amusing, when it was happening to someone else that is. A hand firmly gripped his wrist seconds before the Boatman fount himself relocated onto the first, the Royal Protector dragging him along as he rushed for the heavy Great Hall Doors.

Her voice and several others are coming from outside it.

The boatman pays no mind to the large student body mass behind him as he firmly grips one door and attempts to pry them open. Its much easier, he decides, when a second pair of hands join his own.

He doesn't recognize her at first.

Samuel would admit that, only a year before she had been a fourteen year old child curious to the world. Now...

She's a woman instead. She inherited the best of both Her mother and her Father. Heh, Poor Corvo. His daughter was now only a few years younger then him. Though she hasn't told her poor Father yet, Samuel can sense Erland's mark upon her.

She doesn't recognize him, questioning for his whereabouts as her keen eyes dart over the sea of bodies behind them. He doesn't fault her, few people alive knew what he had looked like at his newfound age.

"Emily," He speaks in a form of greeting causing those eyes to fall upon him. Her jaw drops as her mind puts the face she once knew to the voice.

"Samuel? How... Wha... When?"

The Royal Protector is outright chuckling at her shock and the boatman could feel a smile form onto his face. That expression really was quite priceless. He wishes he had a camera to capture the moment.

* * *

"They what?!"

"Well, to be honest they attempted to kidnap just Samuel. I got dragged along because I was trying to ensure he didn't fall overboard from the pain. "

"WHAT?!"

"Yeah, they seemed to think Samuel was a missing Wizard that was supposed to be their savior. We attempted to clear up the mistaken identity but they where rather stubborn. Of course, their stubbornness ended up with Samuel getting killed in their magical torturement but don't worry, he got better and younger."

The Empress just stared blankly at her Royal Protector as her Royal Boatman sadly shook his head.

"I think you broke her Corvo.."

"Nonsense. She just needs a moment to absorb it all. "

"By the way, I'm pretty sure the colorblind one was planning to kill both Samuel and Myself at the end of whatever plot he had running. "

Samuel swore he could hear something snap within the Empress.

* * *

"My Girl-"

"Don't you 'My Girl' Me! I am Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin I, Empress of Dunwall, and I shall not be talked down to by a colorblind old coot who dared to steal from me! If anything you should be addressing me by the titles my name alone grants me."

"Now, Now my Dear, there's no need for the charade. "

"Charade?! My Dear? I'll have you strung up from the highest peak of Dunwall Tower for such an insult!"

There was something disturbingly satisfying about watching the Empress tear into a man more then five times her age.

"Is it wrong I'm enjoying this?"

The boatman glanced over to the rather conflicted looking Royal Protector before shaking his head.

"If its wrong I'd rather not be right."

"Perhaps we should all sit down, calm down and talk about this?"

The boatman couldn't help but wince as Dumbledore waved his wand around summoning the circular, squishy chairs Hermione Granger had once told him was called a 'Beanbag'. The silence was Damning even for his own ears as both the Guard and the Empress took a moment to intake what had happened before the Guards suddenly had their weapons drawn and anger coursed across the Empress' face.

"YOU DARE USE WITCHCRAFT IN MY PRESENSE!"

"Well this is a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Just when you thought they couldn't be any dumber. Samuel could practically see the fire within the Empress' eyes as she spun upon hell to face himself and Corvo.

"YOU WHERE KIDNAPPED BY WITCHES?!"

"Yes, My Lady."

Both Royal Boatman and Royal Protector answered as one.

"They think Samuel is one of them?"

"Yes, My Lady."

Hands gripped his arms tightly forcing the boatman to meet his Empress' eyes.

"Have you used their magic since arriving here?"

"No, My Lady."

The boatman had read and studied magic but he had never once used it, choosing instead to fall back onto his trusty pistol when there was no other option. When helping clean up Erland's mess he had feed the patients potions and The Cure Elixirs- Samuel was beginning to question wither those things where created to cure Erland's messes instead of the plague. Never once had the boatman dare to use his wand. He could actually see the tension ease out of the other's shoulders while Corvo smile proudly behind her.

Strange, did Emily actually believe he would dare to use magic while attempting to find his way home? He wasn't that dumb, everyone knew the penitently for magic here.

"If they gave you a stick, I want you to snap it Samuel so that there may be no temptation upon your part. "

Voices rose from the sea of bodies in protest, a few even daring to shout at his Empress, but it wasn't their opinion that mattered to Samuel. While they may rely solely upon their magic, the Boatman's sole duty was to his Empress. If she desired the stick they insisted to be his 'wand' to be snapped, then God Damn it, Samuel would snap it, burn the pieces and throw their ashes into the void to ease her worried mind.

"If that is your wish, My Lady."

"It is, Sam-"

"Surely we can talk about this," Dumbledore's voice abruptly cut off his Empress response, "to snap a Wizards wand for just being capable of using magic is an unforgivable and rather petty action."

Samuel could feel his fingers twitch for his gun.

Not only had the old fool interrupted the Empress but he dared to call her _'petty'_?

"Did he just call The Empress _'petty'_?"

One of the guard's voiced the very thoughts, cutting through the heavy silence that had befallen them the moment Dumbledore dared to reopen his mouth. The Empress is furious, Samuel could see the barely retrained rage within her eyes as her fingers twitch for the blade at her side. Emily was a lot of things, the Boatman could acknowledge that, but petty was not one of them. To call her such a thing...

Heh, Samuel's surprised the man still has a head upon his shoulders. He watches as she takes deep breathes to calm herself and while it visibly works, the boatman could hear the cold, isolated tone when she finally speaks.

"Guards, Seize him."

 _Everything has officially gone to Hell._

Samuel decides only seconds before the hallway is fall of assorted colors and the sound of steel being drawn. He's reaching for his gun when hand lands upon his shoulder and the world is swallowed within a vortex of purple and black.


	7. Chapter 7

The Void.

A swirling, isolated mass of darkness with few small islands located here and then. Some believed it to be the beginning of all things, others believed it to be the end. Samuel personally believed it to be lonely.

Cold and isolated, forever within sight but just out of one's reach. Besides Erland there is no life out here nor has there been since the Dawn of Time. Its a sad existence, one that Samuel himself will be Damned to upon the Death of his physical body. To be honest, the Boatman tries not to think about it, when the time comes he will honor his part of their deal but for now... Samuel was content to just let things be.

Turning, emerald eyes lock upon the Deity behind him with a sense of mild annoyance.

"There's some Universal Law everyone but me knows about stating everyone has to kidnap me at least once, isn't there?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The Diety states with a tone of innocence the Boatman finds a little too irreproachable.

"You have the worst of timing, Erland."

An impish smile twisted onto the Deity's face as he crossed his arm, leaning back in the air as though he was relaxing in some invisible hammock.

"I like to think I have to best timing possible. Not only did I manage to pull you out right as the trouble truly stated but by doing so at that exact timeframe I managed to set off an immeasurable about of chaos with just one simple move. When the fighting begins to die down, both groups will notice you missing and assume the other stole you away while under their very noses. I find the after results will be much more entertaining this way rather then just a simple happy ending."

"Of course you do."

The Boatman mumbled more to himself while shifting slightly in place. It wasn't the first time Erland had used Samuel to cause massive amounts of chaos. At times the boatman feels he should come with a warning label so people would know what they where getting involved in before hand. He could practically see the label now:

 ** _Samuel Beechworth, Boatman_**

 _ **Comes with One Amaranth and one high unstable Deity likely to bring down Empires, create plagues containing man eating rats and/or accidentally start universal wars for his own personal amusement** _

"That's not very nice, Samuel."

"But its true."

 _And to think_ , the Boatman mused to himself while watching the Deity, _This was his Best Friend._ _..._

 _He really needed to get out more._

* * *

"So basically you want me to babysit him for you."

"I wouldn't call it babysitting as Samuel's more then capable of taking care of himself... Consider it more of guarding an object of immense value if you will. "

"So glorified babysitting?"

"Well... Yes."

"I can hear you two."

"...You can?"

A unison of dual sighs filled the air as the two mortals stared upon the baffled looking Deity.

"He can't be serious..."

"He is."

"But your literally standing right next to him!"

* * *

Gone...

Corvo twirled the rigid wood that created Samuels wand in-between his fingers. He had discovered it laying innocently upon the stone floors after the chaos had died down; its intended master no where to be fount. At first The Royal Protector had immediately blamed the 'Magicals', they had already kidnapped the boatman once. What was to stop them from trying under the cover of battle?

But something about that idea didn't sit right with the Royal Protector. Their actions and accusations where blunt and honest- despite how hard Dumbledore attempted to make it- and a through search of the island proved otherwise, after all; where else could they possibly hide the man in a world not their own? All they currently had was this island and whatever happened to occupy it.

The Amaranth and The Jessamine were still resting within the shore making it clear the boatman didn't just 'sail away' like some of the guards had originally suggested, but without a ship there was no other way off the island and it was painfully clear; Samuel was not here. Which only left one other option:

Someone had somehow snuck aboard the island and taken the boatman during the chaos likely to breed distrust between the Magicals and Dunwall resistant's. Sadly, it was working.

The Magicals thought they had Samuel and a vast majority thought the Magicals had taken the Royal Boatman...

He wonders ponders who could possibly be suicidal enough to kidnap one of the Empress' favored personals and what's so fascinating about kidnapping a Boatman that everybody and their Grandmothers appear to be doing it as of late.

* * *

"Now that I think about it, aren't you Corvo's boatman?"

"I am."

"Huh, I could have sworn you where older the last time I saw you."

"I was."

"...How's that work?'

"I died."

Ignoring the startled look from the man next to him, Samuel gazed longingly upon the vast sea before him. The boatman had never really been an _'inland'_ sort of person, He needed a boat, the swaying of well crafted wood under his feet, the relentless pounding of untamable waters against the hull and the soft singing of sea. Not a Tropical Paradise Island in some uncharted waters with only The Knife of Dunwall for company- Erland had a terrible sense of humor.

"What are you thinking about now?"

Samuel could practically feel his annoyance as said Knife cut into his thoughts.

"Whether or not to offer you to the Tribe of Cannibals on the other side of the island."

What? He said uncharted not unknown.

"Cannibals?"

He nods though to answer the other's question.

"Cannibals. All woman with serious issues against men when they're not using them as Broodmares or Slaves they're usually on the menu."

The Boatman wonders if its natural for one to turn so pale but chooses to ignore it, its not his business after all.

"How do you know this?"

Samuel doesn't bother answer instead focusing upon the glistening waters and the gentle waves clashing against the sandy shore despite it being one of the few things from his youth the boatman can clearly remember. _Some stories shouldn't be told._

* * *

Emily considered herself a kind and patient Empress, her people loved her and her kingdom prospered under her firm yet gentle ruling. Her people had dubbed her _'Emily the Wise'_...

So why was it she couldn't even keep track of a simple boatman like Samuel Beechworth?

And what type of _'wise'_ empress was she if all she wished to do was hang the a cast majority of these _'Magicals'_ as her Father had dubbed them? Of course a mass majority of them deserved such fate- though not just for the illegal usage of magic. The one called Draco Malfoy being a Prime example- and Dumbledore himself was looking to the gallows for kidnapping of one of her Courtiers.

Though what she couldn't figure out was why everyone seemed so interested in such a simple man. Or why someone was trying to start up a war using her boatman as the fuse. All The Empress truly knew was that unless she staggered upon tangible proof of a conspiracy, war was a authentic possibility within their future.


	8. Chapter 8

It was a relief for Empress Emily Kaldwin to finally be capable of removing her Father's Missing Poster from the bulletin for which it had hung upon all these years. Though the moment was a bit bitter sweet when instead of finally being capable of taking down Samuel's, the Empress was instead forced to update it.

 ** _Missing_**

 _Samuel Beechworth_

 _Age: 25_

 _Hair: Black_

 _Eyes: Emerald Green_

 _All citizens are requested to come forth with any information that may lead to the current location of Samuel Beechworth. If information is proved vital and aid within the living return of the Royal Boatman a rewards of 285,000 Gold Coins shall be granted. Please contact the Watch Guard with any possible leads._

Emily was aware such a reward would drawl out Gold Diggers and Fame Seekers, possibly even fake Samuel's but there was still the chance; no matter how slight; it could also draw out a positive trail on her missing Boatman. Now what to do about those.. Magicals?

That was a rather tricky question as far as the Empress was concerned. She wasn't quite certain permitting them to leave the small Isle was a good idea but maybe if she confiscated their wands and separate the younger- and most likely savable- Generations from the elder; She could rehabilitate them towards the proper ways of society. The Elder Generations though- they would likely cause quandary at every step and turn seeing how set they where in their ways and their... Magic. It was likely she'd have to imprison a vast generality of them and the so called _'Pure Bloods'_.

Still she would offer then a chance to peacefully hand over their wands and forsake the ways of Magic, if they could not do that; she would confiscate the sticks herself.

"Allow me to make this perfectly clear; as long as you reside in my world within the recess of my Kingdom, you shall abide by my rules and follow my laws. I do not who you where back in your world nor do I care; here you are no one. Now, I'm going to ask one last time: Hand over your wands so we may properly prepare yourselves for society."

Surprisingly it wasn't Dumbledore or a teacher that stepped forwards but rather a set of twins with oranges-ish-red hair and crimson highlighted robes. Several others in the crimson highlighted robes had tried to grab the two but one had just slipped out of his stripped scarf as the other brushed the grabby hands away. They stared at her for a brief moment before speaking.

"We don't-"

"-really know-"

"-exactly what's going- "

"-on, but we did actually-"

"-listen to Samuel's stories."

"From our understanding-"

"-having magic here-"

"-is the worst thing possible."

She's heard of these two from her Father: Fred and George Weasley. Twins, Pranksters, Gryffindors. Physically impossible to tell apart and more likely then not to always be at the center of any and all unexplained mischief.

"But the way-"

"-we figure it-"

"-better monetary separated-"

"-then an eternal rest. "

She's not surprised to find that even their wands look similar as two are held out to her by the twins with matching grins. Its almost as if someone had hit a switch as the moment the gentle pocket the two sticks, slowly but surely further students in crimson, yellow, blue and even green highlights step forward. She can't help but notice, Dumbledore's sour expression almost as though he had swallowed a lemon whole.

Emily wonders if she could pay the boy with the advanced camera; Colin, if she recalls correctly; to be her Royal Photographer.

* * *

"You're not very good at this."

"I'm an assassin not a carpenter. "

"And I'm a boatman, but that doesn't appear to be stopping me."

The boatman couldn't help but point out the obvious as he stared at the Knife collapsed in the sand. Really he had been expecting a bit more from the 'Knife of Dunwall' but only thirteen hours into the _'project'_ and the man looked ready to call it quits. Honest, it was pathetic.

"You're not human."

The other complains causing the boatman to raise a brow.

"I assure you, I am one hundred percent human. You're just lazy."

The boatman ignores the sputtering mess on the ground as he re-shoulder's the thirteen foot log he and Daud had been carrying before the other decided to collapse. The Boatman doesn't actually need the Assassin's help- a bonus of her renowned youth- but Samuel would be damned before he did all the work himself while the other lazed about.

He was a Boatman, not a pack mule after all.

* * *

He was a slave driver.

The once elderly man turned young and youthful may hide behind his 'Boatman' title but the Knife could see exactly what the emerald eyed enigma was. To be blunt the assassin hadn't worked so hard since he was a child being taken from his home and thrown into a world of lies, deceit, and death.

As it is the they had been working diligently for thirteen hours without so much as a five minute breather- it was only natural he would wear himself out and the sand was practically the most comfortable thing in slight... Well unless he wished to tempt his luck with using Corvo's Boatman as a bed... - but the damnable boatman didn't appear to have such issues as he persistence forward with not so much as a hint of exhaustion. What was it with older generations and working theirselves to death?

It was official, he was going to steal the Corvo's Boatman and force him to be The Whaler's or maybe even his own personal chief for all eternity. He doesn't quite recall the last time he's had such a decent meal and it almost- almost- makes up for the elder's slave driver tendencies when working. He ponders who good a chief could be with proper materials and after a moment decides that likely would make up for the relentless overworking. Then there was the nice added bonus of not only being capable of completing his assignment from the Outsider but being able to piss off Corvo Attano within the same gesture.

After all, everyone knew how the Royal Protector felt about his boatman; Daud had a feeling it didn't change when the other suddenly when from charming elder to handsome youth. Yes he admitted it; Handsome. The Boatman had the looks of a healthy and properly cared for Noble. Those eyes where unique too, he never quite heard of let alone witness a person with eyes of emeralds before. Corvo had taste, Daud would grant him that. He ponders what the Royal Protector would do if he was to seduce the boatman after all they where stranded upon an island of cannibals together and it was human nature to seek comfort in times of distress..

Heh, he could almost taste the dark eyed man's fury.

Across from the Knife of Dunwall, Samuel Beechworth couldn't help but scowl as he was sudden filled with a sense of annoyance. For some reason, the boatman felt as though some idiot was plotting to use him in some complicated scheme... Again.

"Achoo!"

"Bless you."

* * *

Sebastian Moon was a quite, polite man. He did not get involved in other's disputes and did his outright best to look after his God Brother's estates while the other was off charting the sea in hopes of forgetting. The stormy eyed man is quite certain the slightly elder- by three months- has managed to so exactly that by now but... Well he does not expect the elder to return to a home where every corner holds a new memory to haunt him.

The estates where always peaceful, quite, and maybe a tad bit isolated- what else could one expect when they lived upon their own island after all? So it was only natural his first thought upon seeing Empress Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin I and her Royal Protector; Corvo Attano, upon his doorstep is _'Oh shit, what the hell did Samuel do now?'_

A part of him knows its rather unjust to automatically blame his God Brother but if you had grown up with Samuel Beechworth you would have understood. His God brother was what many would likely consider as close to sainthood as a living man could be, but the other had horrid luck as trouble quite literally seemed to stalk the elder like a lion stalks it prey. As children, Sebastian, himself, had been pulled into countless misadventures thanks to his God Brother's misfortune and had ended up requiring countless therapy sessions for new fount phobias with each _'adventure'_.

"Sebastian Moon?"

A part of him wants nothing more then to reclose the door and return to his recliner by the fireplace where he would go over dusty memories and ponder exactly how many of his snowy hairs was caused thanks to his God Brother but on the other hand...

If Samuel was in trouble... If he needed him, Sebastian just couldn't turn his back and walk away. And why else would Royalty be on this island unless something drastic had happened to the other? A mental sigh leaves the man as he straightens, sharp stormy eyes locking onto the two before him.

"I am. "

"Is this Beechworth Manor?"

"It is. Has something happened to Samuel I would be aware about?"

The Empress seems to consider something for a moment before speaking.

"Its a long story. One we should likely take inside. "

"Of course My Lady."

He makes tea and biscuits for his guest before making himself comfortable by the fire and listening closely to his guests' story. The more he listens the more Sebastian could feel the scowl twisting upon his face as his fingers flex for the gun at his waist. He's not quite certain of who he would shoot should he reach it:

Corvo for failing to protect His Family more then once.

Dumbledore- what type of name was that?- for using Magic of all things, to kidnap Samuel.

Samuel's new kidnapper- once he fount the fucker- for stealing the stubborn boatman the moment he was safely back in Dunwall.

The Outsider, for if the legends are true, he has to be involved some way or another.

Or Samuel himself for still having such rotten luck he can't even go a decade without being kidnapped.

Yet he manages to keep his urges in check. It wouldn't be very gentleman or pacifist like to start shooting people now would it?

"I'm afraid this was a waste of trip Your Majesty. Samuel has not returned to this Manor since his Wife and Father passed away and he entrusted it into my care. If I may, if you are looking for Samuel and he has escaped his kidnapper; he is likely at sea. The sea is Samuel's home, the only true place he feels safe. "

 _ **"Wife?!"**_

Oh, right. Samuel never did like talking about her after her death. It was far too harrowing so the elder avoided the subject like the plague until he managed to forget and then it became taboo in fear of reminding the boatman when they arranged an encounter at whatever tavern was convenient.

"Amaranth Beechworth nee Knight. A rather lovely and gentle woman. It was such a shame when her illness finally got the best of her. Samuel named his boat after her if I recall correctly."

"Illness?"  
The Empress is all but sitting upon the edge of her seat, a calculated look within her eyes.

"Amaranth was born with an advanced stage of Diffuse Alveolar Hemorrhage. Samuel was aware of it from the start but I suppose Love is Blind as he married her anyway. Everyone knew he was setting himself up for heartache but he never cared. He built her a cottage further inland to grant her clearer air, hired the best physician to research the illness and bought her a Private Nurse. I like to believe it was because of her efforts that Amaranth actually lived longer then others believed she would. "

* * *

He had always figured there was something more to the name _'Amaranth'_ then Samuel would say, but a wife...

Heh, to be honest Corvo had believed the _'hopeless love'_ to be of a completely different variety. Though it made sense he supposed, even the most cold hearted of men would wish to at least have something to recall their loved one's by; a namesake wasn't that far out nor was it the worse the Royal Protector had seen.

After all, he had dubbed the Jessamine when it had been first crafted. It was strong, loyal and faithful; much like the woman it was named after and the Amaranth which saw them through hell and back.

Corvo ponders if he could convince Samuel to talk about her. People where said to bond over the memories of love ones lost to them after all.

 _Somewhere lost to sea on an isle of cannibals._

"Achoo!"

"Bless you," the Knife of Dunwall spoke before catching a scowl across the younger's- he wasn't quite sure if the other was younger or older then him now- face, "What's wrong?"

"...I've suddenly got the strangest urge to strange Corvo."

"Ah, I get those all the time."


	9. Chapter 9

He stared blankly at the woman just visible across the beach shore. She hadn't moved once since her head turned his and the boatman's direction.

 _'Tribe of Cannibal Women.'_

"Samuel, what do we do?"

The Knife of Dunwall had a feeling if he ran, the woman would chase him, and he'd rather not have to use his mark for something as simple as a single woman. Silence was his only answer.

"Samuel?"

Glancing over to where the boatman had one been, Daud couldn't help but stare in disbelief at the empty log the other had been using only moments before as chair. The were no footprints in the sand or any other sign another man had been there besides himself. For a moment all the knife of Dunwall could do was stare before a shriek similar to that of a battle cry tore itself from the woman's throat and she was abruptly sprinting his way.

This was not his day.

For the safety of the forest line, Samuel watched as the dreaded Knife of Dunwall Blinked out of existence, having finally noticed the Boatman's own disappearance. It took the assassin long enough. Hopefully the other was smart enough to avoid the eastern shore... Who was he kidding? If Daud had the same luck as Corvo, he run right into it; Literally... Whelp, it wasn't his problem. It wasn't as though the boatman had asked him to run that way and Daud was a big boy; he could look after himself. Humming, the boatman started heading south; away from the woman lookin around in confusion and the direction Daud had fled.

Where was he? Where was he?

God Damn It, how was he supposed to guard someone he couldn't even keep track of? How in the Seven Hells had the Boatman managed to slip past his guard and out of his sight? And where the Hell was he?! Corvo's boatman needed leash, preferably one with a bell. The thought alone caused the assassin to pause mid-step. A bell collar didn't actually sound that bad.

 _Dark leather wrapped around a pale neck as the silver of the bell hung teasingly at the base of his throat, lips twisted into a playful pout while mischief filled emeralds peered up at him from beneath an ebony curtain of silk. He bets the other's flexible, patient and forgiving with a high tolerance for pain. He's have to be if the rumors about The Royal Protector and his Boatman are true._

Somewhere on the opposite side of the island, Samuel Beechworth paused mid-step with the sudden and unexplainable urge to locate the Knife of Dunwall just so he could strangle the man himself. After a moment, the boatman quickly brushes the urge off and continues on his way.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore wasn't a man to be trifled with.

While it was true he didn't know where they where, he wasn't the sort to permit such a thing- or a little girl trying to play adult- to stop him. His words may not hold much weight to the people here but he was still the Master of the Elder Wand, The Puppeteer pulling strings from every shadow. He was a man who always had a plan.

The elder wizard reluctantly hands the girl's protector; Mr. Attano, his old wand while keeping the Elder hidden under concealments. He permits them to place him within a filthy cell for 'kidnapping'. He permits them to believe they've won, that they had the upper hand. Its child's play, waiting till all but his one guard is gone. He Imperious the man and with a couple spells there are two Albus Dumbledore's standing within his cell. After that its just the simple matter of creating a homunculus to take the guards place and casting disillusion charms upon his being.

He leaves the palace dungeon only thirty minutes after arriving and no one is the wiser. Within the hour, Albus Dumbledore is back within the safety of his office in Hogwarts, a new non-sweet related password firmly in place. He has a _'Savior'_ to locate and new pawns to place.

* * *

 _Darkness._

 _It swallows his vision whole and becomes his world. There are no lights nor is there a need for any. Despite the overwhelming darkness he is not alone. He can hear the other's breathing, feel scarred skin under his hands, smell the metallic scent of blood._

 _Logically, he should be scared as they always come in the dark but he's not._

 _He's in control here and the other allows he to stay in control. Moonlight flickers in through the widow and for once the younger could see the other person with him. There's blood entwined in his snowy hair, covering his pale skin, but those emerald eyes are soft as they've always been. They hold no pity or resentment like many of the others would or have._

 _He's a good man, too good for the likes of him. He knows the elder deserves more, but he can't- he won't- let him go. He's a selfish man but in that moment, trapped within the darkness, he's the happiest he's been in years._

He wakes in his palace bedroom, with but a half melted candle to keep out the darkness. For a moment he just stares at the stone over his head before throwing his feet over the side of the bed. Despite knowing the other's wont' be there, the Royal Protector allows his feet to guide him to the Boatman's room. Samuel's a simple man and it reflects within his choice of bare minimum decoration, it probably would have had less if Emily had not been so stubborn.

A self made hammock is set by an open widow which overlooks the sea, it swings every so slightly with every salty breeze that makes its way into the room. A bed with silk covers and hand sown quilts is shoved against a wall- Corvo fondly recalls the day Emily forced the boatman to get an actually bed as he was _'too old and fragile'_ to safety continue using the hammock. There are bookshelves along the eastern wall, full of old tomes and wood carvings of a variety of things: A Mini Amaranth, The Leviathan, A Whale with strange marking upon its side, Emily sitting upon her throne in a scene Corvo recognized from his daughter's orientation day, Ect... There's even a wooden carving of him: smile on his face with Emily next to him; her wooden arms in placed in a way that shows they're likely talking.

Corvo can't help but smile himself.

Samuel had a talent of capturing moments within his work and a good memory to aid in its perfection. Gently placing the carving back onto the shelf, Corvo makes his way to the Hammock and crawls inside. He grabs one of the Boatman's spare jacket from under the pillow and wraps it around himself. Tomorrow he would double his efforts in search of the missing man.

* * *

There was nothing quite like watching the stars shine above from the beauty of the sea.

"So, how'd you escape the Tribe?"

Next to him the Knife of Dunwall pauses in the wrapping of his wrist.

"To be honest, I'm not sure you would believe me but... They had me cornered and then this strange man wearing these hideous robes showed up out of nowhere and started flinging colorful lights from a stick. They where so focused on him, I decided to make a tactical retreat."

Daud would swear he hears the emerald eyed man muffle a laugh. Its a rather pleasant sound, one the Knife of Dunwall wouldn't mind hearing again. Even if it was at his expanse.

Samuel finds it easier to sleep in a boat then he does on land, even if there's an assassin who kill Empress Jessamine only two feet away from him. He tries not to ponder on that snippet of information as the soft rocking and the salty breezes lure him to sleep.

 _When he can't sleep, he wonders the palace halls._

 _To be honest, he doesn't like it here. He feels trapped and contained but one cannot just disobey a direct order from their Empress. He allows his feet to carry him over the stone without any true destination, silently up one hall and down the next. He probably would have continued doing so all not had he heard the beginnings of a scream suddenly cut off from behind a door that he subconsciously recognizes leads to Corvo's room. The Boatman finds himself moving before he even has a moment to think things over. He pushes open the heavy door, expecting to find the Royal Protector in the thralls of another nightmare yet the moment the doors open, the boatman freezes._

 _The man he expected to find asleep is wide awake, stranding a naked woman with his bloodied hands wrapped tightly around her throat. A part of the Boatman recognizes the terrified looking woman as one of the dancers who had been flirting with the Royal Protector all evening._

 _"Corvo!"_

 _His tone is sharp as he grabs the other's wrists and is forced to pry them away from the woman's bruised throat, for good measure he drags the younger man back and away from the gasping, crying mess of a woman. Those dark eyes seem even darker then normal as they focus on him. For a moment the Boatman is tempted to move away from the man himself but instead keeps his gaze locked with the younger's while gesturing for the woman to leave. She doesn't need to be told twice as she flees, clutching the sheet close while forgetting even her clothes in her desperation to escape. Without the sheet its much easier to see the sea of blood staining the Royal Protector's bed._

 _"Samuel."_

 _A part of him wants to lecture the man, to demand what the hell was going on but he looked so pitiful in that moment, so small like he expected for the Boatman to run away screaming like the woman had done. He sighs softly and tugs the younger to his feet._

 _"Come on, lets go get you cleaned up. Then you can stay in my room tonight."_

 _Its not his smartest idea, letting a man he just caught torturing another into his bed, that Samuel would acknowledge but no one had ever quite accused him of doing the smart thing over what he felt was the right thing. He ends up having to scrub the blood off the Royal Protector himself while the other just stares at him, much like he had to scrub the filth off the man the day he boated the other back from the sewers._

 _He can only hope the other man isn't having another relapse as he dresses the Royal Protector in some of his spare clothes and guides the other to his hammock._

When Daud awake, the raft is on the shores of an island he doesn't recognize and the Boatman who was his charge is gone. In the distance he can see the gray matter of smoke raising to the morning sky. With luck it would be some form of civilization with open communication in which he would locate the missing boatman in. If not...

He would deal with that when the moment came.

Meanwhile in a small isolated town of Wei-Gon, Samuel Beechworth boarded a fisherman's boat about to set voyage with the destination of Redmoor. If all went well they would arrive within the month.


	10. Chapter 10

**"What do you mean he's not here?!"**

As far as Daud had been concerned his literal God given mission had been simple and rather straightforward from the start:

Ensure Samuel Beechworth stays lost.

"He boarded a boat heading for Redmoor early this morning, Sir."

He was an Assassin blessed by the Outsider.

He's easily slaughtered hundreds; peasants, Lords, Noble Women, _Empresses._ He fought toe to toe with the Royal Protector himself; Corvo Attano, and managed to escape with his life and no critical wounds.

With his unnatural abilities it should have been child's play to keep the boatman secured. Yet somehow, despite all his natural advantages he had lost Corvo's Boatman...

Good Gods, he would never be able to live this down should word get out.

* * *

He's quick on his feet and a hard worker.

Nothing could really change that, Samuel supposed as he moved around deck; securing lines and hauling nets. When at sea one couldn't afford to be anything but. If you slowed, if you hesitated; you would die and likely many others.

"We need more men on the Starboard!"

It didn't help when freak storms flew in out of nowhere attempting to sink them. If the boatman listened he swore he could hear the delighted laughter on the wind. Though he doesn't voice it, Samuel is quite certain Erland is behind this; The Deity had never been one to make things easy, especially when they went against his plans.

The boatman finishes securing his line before boot cladded feet rush over the slick, water covered wood.

"That was just petty."

The emerald eyed man informs the amused looking Deity floating around his cabin room as he strips out of his saturated clothing. The Deity just chuckles in response, void filled eyes following the other man around as he rung the water from his clothes into a wooden bucket before hanging them on a thin wire to dry.

"No," Erland finally speaks as the boatman collapses onto his cot, "Petty would have been sending the Leviathan."

The boatman's shoe barely misses his head but the curses that follow brings laughter to the Deity's lips.

Levithan:

The Twisted Serpent.

Destoryer of Dreams.

Abomination of the Sea.

The Outsider's Pet.

This was the third time in his life Samuel fount himself staring up at the maginificant beast.

"Now I'm being the petty."

The Outsider laughed from his spot next to the boatman, ingoring the sharp glare directed his way.

"I hate you."

* * *

The boatman clings to the portside railing as hurricane like waters ponded against the deck and another tidal like wave rose only feet away. He barely has a moment to curse before the ship is once more thrown under the harsh waves for what feels like hours before breaking its way back to the surface. Its only because of some divine miracle they haven't sunk yet.

The harsh waters sweep upon the wooden deck, slamming all caught in its grips into the railings in hopes of throwing them out into the sea. As it is, the Boatman just barely manages to snag the cabin boy- a lad of sixteen summers- by the neck of his jacket before the other is thrown overboard to sink beneath the current.

There's terror in the younger's earthy brown eyes as the boatman grabs a rope from the railing next to them and wraps it tightly around the younger's waist before attaching the other end to his own.

"We're going to die. We're going to die. "

The younger keeps mumbling under breath even as the boatman pulls the younger back onto his feet and places him firmly between his own body and the railing with but his arms to keep the other trapped in place. Moments later the ship tips dangerous close to capsizing as something- likely Erland's pet- slams into the port keel. For a moment, Samuel could see their reflection perfectly within the water's surface before they're suddenly highly in the air as the boat rocks like a infant's cradle before stabilizing.

There's a shadow, Samuel knows all too well looming over the boat; the leviathan has grown board of playing with its food. The Boatman's mind has only but a moment to register the thought before the wood just centimeters from his exposed back is shatter under teeth, the force throwing both him and the Cabin Boy airborne with debris. There's a sharp pain in the back of his skull before the world fades into the darkness.

At times, Samuel couldn't help but ponder wither he's the luckiest bastard alive or the unluckiest. When the boatman comes to once more, they are no longer out at sea but on the edge of a forest with the sound of fresh water beating upon a shore nearby. The Cabin Boy is looming over him, relief in his eyes as he speaks but all Samuel could hear was static. Something must show on his face for the younger is suddenly gesturing to his head and twirling his pointing finger in the air in a continuous circle that the elder recognizes meaning wrapping.

A hand moves upward, fingers carefully prodding at his skull only to feel fabric under his fingers; diffentally wrapping. He has to the other off as he sits up, ignoring the dizzy ponding rushing through his skull.

"Thank you."

He'd have to purchase the lad a new scarf when they manage to get back to civilization as a proper thank you but for now words was all he could offer.

The Cabin Boy, Demarcus Santiago, wasn't much to brag about when out at sea but now that the younger had firm, solid land beneath his feet Demarcus was a natural survivalist. He didn't dally like most teenagers, instead choosing to go out and do was necessary as soon as possible. The Boatman had tried to follow and aid the younger but Santiago was insistent he stay put, citing that he wasn't medically inclined and didn't know wither or not the head wound was worse then it appeared and to wait till the morrow _'just in case'_.

Samuel easily read between the unspoken lines.

If morning came and he was dead the head wound was diffentally worse then it first appeared; if not... Well it could still be worse but they would need the extra hands and he was likely to be placed upon a _'light workload'._ As Samuel suspects, upon dawns first light, Demarcus places him in charge of gathering things such as herbs, eatable plant life, and fishing. The Cabin Boy takes the heavier workloads for himself- Samuel pretends not to notice that all their route are close enough so that the younger was within hearing distance- causing the Boatman to mentally sigh.

He didn't even look his real age yet he was still being treated like a fragile package.

* * *

 **"What do you mean you sunk the ship?!"**

"He was getting too close. Not to worry, Samuel survived along with the Cabin Boy. "

Daud could feel this fingers twitching with the sudden urge to strange deity before him as the other just floated slightly out of reach. He had been hoping to track the ship down once it made port but now...

How the Hell was he supposed to find Corvo's Boatman without so much as a clue to where he rushed off to and better yet, why didn't the Outsider just grab the Boatman while he was there and save them both the trouble?

"It wouldn't have been as entertaining that way."

The Assassin could feel his eye beginning to twitch at the other's response and _'even an idiot would know that'_ expression. Entertainment, of course. How could he have even considered anyone would ever consider doing something logical over something entertaining? Hell, why not just grant the older man invisibility while they were at it?

"I considered it but Samuel inherited an Invisibility Cloak so it would have been rather useless to him."

Of cour- wait...

 **"What?!"**


	11. Chapter 11

Well, the good news was he was still alive.

The bad new... He and the Lad where stranded on a inland almost completely surrounded by whirlpools and good only knew what else. Considering the fact they discovered the ruins of a once- apparently mighty- civilization deeper inland, Samuel knew long term survival was possible. He should have been ecstatic, it was obvious they could easily survive here once they rebuilt on of the ruined homes.

Yet something else nagged at the boatman.

The boatman had traveled all over the land, searching out every nook and cranny.

Yet all the skeletons he discovered- despite having ragged clothes one would expect over a long period of time- didn't so much as have a scrap on their bones, ruling out signs of a struggle. All the bodies had a strange symbol on their clothing that labeled them all from the same tribe of people which led Samuel to believe they had all been apart of the same family. No stray bullets planted with the ruins or nearby trees, no rusted blades hidden within the grass. No signs of sickness, let alone a plague like Dunwall had suffered through. Peeling back a layer of tree bark showed the plantation had suffered from no airborne or water sourced poison.

So how was it, Samuel pondered, that a whole tribe of hundreds maybe ever thousands of people ranging from infants to the elderly, seemed to have all simultaneously died one after another?

A sense of dread and paranoia clawed at his mind as alarm bells screamed at him; something wasn't right here. He was overlooking something, missing something of importance.

Yet for the live of him, Samuel just figure out what.

"Samuel, I fount us a suitable home."

Suitable wouldn't exactly be the word Samuel would use but it was in better condition then most of the others so it would have to do. Repairing what they could would be a hassle that would have to wait for dawn's first light though as it was getting dark, too dark to even see a hand directly in front of your face, and fast.

"We need to locate the safest room. We'll barricade ourselves in for the night."

A sound of confusion left Demarcus.

"Huh? Why? There's plenty of space and rooms."

"I would rather not take any chances."

After all, the bodies didn't appear to be physically harmed but he clearly recalled the gorges indented deep within the stone walls, doorways long since missing their doors, visible rooftops and street ways- there was no way in The Abyss those where natural let alone part of the design.

Samuel spends the night sleeping underneath his invisibility cloak, not quite trusting the boarded he and Santiago- who had rejected his offer to use it- had used to bar the window and doorway. The Boatman honestly doesn't know what happened here but he knows the dangers of the ocean and those scarce islands located within it.

* * *

" -boarded a ship to Redmoor but it was sunken midway by the Leviathan."

A heavy sigh left The Royal Protector at the news. Really, he should have expected it. Samuel had always held the Devil's Luck be it good or bad while the Outsider never seemed quite capable of causing issues for his own entertainment. The dark haired man wouldn't be surprised if the Deity was behind The Royal Boatman's disappearance just to start a war.

"Now that I think about it, there was another man wearing crimson asking about this Samuel about ten days ago."

Dark eyes darted quickly towards the merchant.

"Describe him."

 _Daud._

There's no doubt in Corvo's mind of who the man searching for Samuel was after hearing the man's description.

The Bastard who murdered Jasmine in cold blood had been here not too long ago searching for Samuel. No matter how much he racks his brain, Corvo finds it impossible to imagine a positive reason for the murderer to be inquiring about the boatman. Matter of fact the only reason the Royal Protector could think of involved another body, belonging to someone else he loved, laying within a pool of their own blood.

Ten days ago.

He had almost a two weeks head start on them.


End file.
